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130: Rhythms
Evelyn woke to an eerie silence. The rhythmic drone of the train’s wheels along the tracks that had lulled her to sleep beside Andrew was gone. In the darkness, she could hear distant shouts and loud clanging ringing through the air beyond the car’s windows. She rolled to her side, one hand instinctively seeking her source of comfort and coming up empty.
“Andrew?” Concerned now, she sat up and called again, slightly louder. “Andrew?”
“It’s alright, darling,” he said softly and she heard the bedroom door to the drawing room swing open wider on lightly squeaking hinges. “I’m here.”
“What’s going on? Why are we stopped?” She flinched as he flipped the switch for the dim lights around the vanity mirror, then set his glass of brandy aside and took a seat on the bed beside her.
As he’d been in Los Angeles the night El Cordonazo hit the city when the tropical storm battered the Ambassador mercilessly, Andrew was dressed for bed. With his silk sleep pants tie
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World of Tomorrow 131: Arrival
The following morning Evelyn woke alone. She could tell by the way his belongings were packed that Andrew had already risen. If she was any guess, he was taking advantage of the train’s onboard barber, which meant she had time to bathe and dress without his typical morning enthusiasm for both processes. Selecting a warm dress from her traveling case, she draped her clothing over the empty towel rack in the bathroom and rooted through her toiletries for her toothbrush and toothpowder. When she was done, she hung a fresh towel on the rack nearest the shower beside the still-damp one Andrew had used and stepped under the spray. The warm shower felt delightful and soothed the telltale soreness from her bedroom exertions with her husband the night before. Once she’d washed, she stood with the warm spray draining off of her and for the first time since they’d come, wondered what they were going to do in St. Louis. They had only the name of a diner and a hotel off t
World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
“The Coronado was built, and I believe is now run, by Preston Bradshaw,” Andrew advised more than an hour later as their cab pulled away from the curb at the train depot. “He graduated from Columbia with my brother, Russell. The two were quite good friends as I recall. My father introduced him to Stanford White in New York City where he worked before returning to St. Louis. He’s responsible for the monumental hotels on Lindell Boulevard. The Melbourne and the Coronado at midtown and the theatre district. And opposite, near the Central West end, the Chase and the Forest Park hotels were also his commissions.” “Did you know him?” Evelyn asked, closing her burning eyes and resting her head against his shoulder. “Is that why we’re staying at the Coronado?” She left unspoken the reminder that the Coronado Hotel, in particular the hotel’s famed Caprice Club, was where they’d found Charlotte to serve Andrew’s divorce paperwork after their tip-off from the Princes in Los Angeles.
World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
The hotel’s ballroom was a gently baroque style. Its elegant space was replete with all manner of luxuries one would expect of a high-profile hotel, no matter where one might visit in the world—custom paneled with artfully etched-mirror and plaster walls, gold-leafed accents and intricate crown moldings. Above the near-magical dancefloor, which was lit from below, hung in the decorative ceiling, a ponderous crystal chandelier lit the warm wooden dancefloor beneath it. Along the periphery, undulating balconies supported by Corinthian pilasters gave an air of classicism to the space, but one not overly staid. These generous galleries provided seating for those who had only come for a meal, to watch the dancing or to listen to the orchestra. They’d dressed for a late dinner, but though the orchestra played, their music broadcast exactly as Evelyn had always dreamed of experiencing, she and Andrew hadn’t danced. In fact, they hadn’t stayed much longer than
World of Tomorrow 134: As Luck Would Have It
Wednesday morning in St. Louis dawned dark and gloomy and only marginally better than it had been upon their arrival early afternoon on Monday. When Evelyn emerged from the bedroom into the drawing room where he and the constantly-moving Will waited, Andrew flicked the newspaper he’d been reading down and smiled. They’d all slept poorly—again. They’d all woken late—again—and after their enjoyable brunch yesterday, both men were eager to see what other offerings were available in the East Lounge’s dining area. “Well?” she asked, her red-tinged and particle-irritated eyes roving the drawing room’s lush furnishings, immediately spotting the unmistakable coating of fine black powder and ash. “Are we trapped inside again today? It seems faintly better.” Will snorted. “By comparison to yesterday, being buried in black sand would seem better.” Andrew chuckled, setting aside the St. Louis Star-Times he’d been reading. He rifled through a stack of newspapers o
World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
The dancing had worked like a charm. For a couple of hours. Andrew had managed to get just shy of another couple hours on top of that, burning time off the afternoon by alternating between listening to the orchestra rehearse, dancing, and finally, by slipping a bribe to the broadcasting staff to show Evelyn their equipment set-up and to take their sweet time about it. After that, she’d become too fretful to do much beyond distractedly, which had quickly spoiled the ballroom option for both of them. They’d retired to their drawing room, taken afternoon tea, then Evelyn’s pacing had begun again in earnest. He had to admit, watching her as she combed through her drying hair at the dressing table, it might be time to worry about Will a little. It was going on eight o’clock. Late by any business standard, but certainly well past the time when most diners catering to the kind of clients they’d seen at the DeBaliviere Diner and Waffle House would be visiting
World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
“You folks just planning on waiting?” their cabbie asked, his dark eyes studying Andrew and Will in the rearview mirror, despite that Evelyn was seated between them. “Meter’s running. Makes no never mind to me if you do, but I’ll have to circle the block or the flatfoots will cite me.” “How long do we have to decide?” Andrew asked, reluctant to have the cab move on the off chance that they might miss Miranda's departure for work during the process. “’Nother minute or two at most.” “Thank you.” He shifted slightly on the cab’s rear seat so he could better see his companions. “I know we’re early, but if she’s keeping business hours, I’d have expected she’d have to allow time to travel to a workplace. You’re certain this is the building, Will?” “It’s the place,” he replied definitively. “I can go in and wait. Tail her to wherever she’s going, then come get you.” “Is it possible she recognized you yesterday?” Evelyn asked, peering through the murk
World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
Andrew rose slowly to his feet, an antagonized muscle twitching along his clean-shaven jaw. His expression looked like a bomb about to explode. Evelyn drew a sudden breath, one hand clapping over her mouth. She stared, in turns, first at Will, then at Miranda, and her mind whirled. What was it Alexander Lowell had said the day that Detective Kelly had attempted to arrest her? The same day he’d later resigned from the police department. Something about the detective being fed what he needed to lay an accusation upon Evelyn. The question of ‘why’ anyone cared about a lowly former secretary enough to attempt to kill her, let alone invest the effort in framing her was growing more convoluted by the minute. But it was clear it was centered here, with the account belonging to Glorietta Moreno and her rights as an heir to it. “It’s a stretch,” Andrew said softly, nodding towards Miranda, “but I can see why your mother might have had Russell’s name on that account. N
World of Tomorrow 138: Sound and Fury
“M-ma-ma.” The stuttering word was an alarming half-sob and half-gurgle from the wounded Becky. “M-ma-m-ma.” Dear God! Whoever it was had shot her! That poor, helpless girl! Why!? She wasn’t a threat! And there was absolutely nothing here of any value! Evelyn’s heart leapt to her throat and hammered painfully. But she stayed close to the wall, inching forward on tiptoe to clutch at Andrew’s jacket. She pointed to the floor where their shadows fell long across it from the single overhead lamp in the middle of the room. If they drew too close to the door, their shadows would be visible to the intruder in the darkened hall leading to the bedrooms. She pointed to the window, and Andrew jerked his chin towards it in acknowledgement. Escape. They had to escape. Outside, on the sidewalk, they could summon the patrolling police officer. They could summon help. Men trained for this. Men with other guns. They had to move fast. Miranda’s daughter needed them. Even above the scuffling noises fr
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- World of Tomorrow 139: Epilogue
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- World of Tomorrow 137: Miranda's Story
- World of Tomorrow 136: Doors
- World of Tomorrow 135: Plan of Attack
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- World of Tomorrow 133: Black Tuesday
- World of Tomorrow 132: Miserable Monday
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